


(we can make this into) something that will last forever

by vindicatedtruth (orphan_account)



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 12:53:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6195886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/vindicatedtruth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fifty themes.  Fifty moments.  One sentence.  One love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(we can make this into) something that will last forever

**Author's Note:**

> Based on LJ's [1sentence challenge table; theme set Alpha](http://1sentenceorder.livejournal.com/1531.html). Title taken from David Archuleta's [_Crush_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6J1-eYBbspA).

* * *

 

**one: comfort**

It should feel scary, this end, this beginning; standing on the  _American Idol_  stage together for the final time, Archie looks at Cook and realises:  _it’s you—you take all my fears away._

 

* * *

 

**two: kiss**

It isn’t Cook’s first kiss, but it’s the first time it tastes so much (like heaven, like happiness, like home); it’s the first time he realises Archie will be his last.

 

* * *

 

**three: soft**

He runs his fingers through Archie’s hair as he thinks of all the reasons to fortify his defences; snuffling in his sleep, Archie sighs against his shoulder, and Cook feels the walls around his heart crumble.

 

* * *

 

**four: pain**

It’s been months of silence, and Archie  _aches_ ; he answers the call right after the first ring and hears the happiness in Cook’s voice when he asks: “Will you be my best man?”

 

* * *

 

**five: potatoes**

Archie likes them boiled and mashed while Cook likes them fried and crispy; it’s a mark of how domestic they’ve become when they end up cooking the potatoes both ways.

 

* * *

 

**six: rain**

Cook frowns as he watches it pouring outside the window; Archie snuggles closer for warmth and hopes to give Cook one less reason to hate the rain.

 

* * *

 

**seven: chocolate**

He shouldn’t have been surprised to receive the care package while on tour—Archie always has this uncanny ability to sense when he needs it most—and when the rest of the band tries to steal some of the chocolate, Cook playfully slaps their hands away: “You can’t have any, it’s  _mine._ ”

 

* * *

 

**eight: happiness**

Archie rolls over the bed to link their hands together; “Happy anniversary,” he murmurs, and Cook sleepily answers: “Where are the grandkids?”

 

* * *

 

**nine: telephone**

The rest of his bandmates don’t understand his sheer panic when he thought he lost his phone; when they’re thousands of miles apart like this, it’s Archie’s constant texts and calls that Cook holds on to, to remind himself that Archie will never leave him —  _again_.

 

* * *

 

**ten: ears**

Archie’s ears transform into different shades, depending on his mood—shell-pink if he’s embarrassed; crimson, if he’s angry; yellow, if he’s disgusted; ashen, if he’s frightened—but this is Cook’s favourite: rosy red when he comes in Cook’s mouth.

 

* * *

 

**eleven: name**

“David,” Cook says, before his words get caught; heart in his throat, he tries again: “… May I share your last name too?” he asks, and shows him the ring.

 

* * *

 

**twelve: sensual**

He watches the way Archie’s fingers glide over the piano—slow, skilful, tender, intent—and Cook shivers hotly at the thought of that same touch on his cock.

 

* * *

 

**thirteen: death**

He’s been taught all his life that a love like this is wrong; tangling his limbs with Cook, Archie watches him sleep, his thoughts bright and fierce:  _if this is the heaven I get in return, then damn me to hell._

 

* * *

 

**fourteen: sex**

It’s the way he clings to Cook even in the throes of his climax; even when Archie loses his mind, he never loses his hold on his heart.

 

* * *

 

**fifteen: touch**

A touch to his wrist turns his anger into calm; a touch to his cheek turns his agitation into relief; a touch to his chest turns his despair into hope; a touch to his nape turns his love into lust; Archie knows all of Cook’s buttons, and he knows just how to press them.

 

* * *

 

**sixteen: weakness**

Archie melts into those welcoming arms and listens to the steady beat of that heart, grateful that with Cook, he doesn’t always have to be strong.

 

* * *

 

**seventeen: tears**

Few things in the world can shatter Cook’s heart as thoroughly as this: seeing Archie cry, and being helpless to stop it.

 

* * *

 

**eighteen: speed**

In a flash, Cook is by his side, wrapping his arms around Archie as he falls apart at the news of his parents’ divorce; dimly he remembers when, not too long ago, it had been Archie keeping him together when he found out about Adam.

 

* * *

 

**nineteen: wind**

Archie closes his eyes at the gentle breeze and imagines that it’s Cook’s caress; he sings softly under his breath and trusts the wind to carry his longing across the continents to where Cook is.

 

* * *

 

**twenty: freedom**

Archie wears the matching ring for the first time; he’s tired of hiding, and they can finally stop pretending.

 

* * *

 

**twenty-one: life**

“She has your eyes,” Archie whispers reverently; Cook leans over to kiss him on the forehead: “I hope our daughter will have your heart.”

 

* * *

 

**twenty-two: jealousy**

He listens to all the inside jokes Cook shares with his band during the tour; Archie smiles sadly at how he doesn’t understand a single one.

 

* * *

 

**twenty-three: hands**

He strums his guitar as Archie plays the piano;  _someday,_ Cook thinks wistfully, it’s not only music that’s going to keep them together like this.

 

* * *

 

**twenty-four: taste**

The first time, it tastes like hope; before Archie leaves, it tastes like despair; after Archie returns, it tastes like vindication; now, before the altar, their kiss tastes like  _forever._

 

* * *

 

**twenty-five: devotion**

He listens— _I’ve never been one to yell surrender, as long as you’re standing next to me_ —and remembers: two years of waiting for him to return, and four years before that, waiting for him to grow up; now, eight years after they first met, Archie knows: there is no one else in the world who loves as devotedly as Cook.

 

* * *

 

**twenty-six: forever**

He introduces himself as David, and is surprised to know they share the same name; their hands close over each other in greeting, feeling something that will last, begin.

 

* * *

 

**twenty-seven: blood**  

“Stop,” Archie tells him softly, curling his fingers over Cook’s wrist to halt his guitar-playing; it’s the anniversary of Adam’s death, and he hasn’t even noticed his hands are already bleeding.

 

* * *

 

**twenty-eight: sickness**

Numerous bottles of alcohol, endless hours of band practice, casual dates that lead to nothing, very nearly overdosing on sleeping pills:  _nothing_ will cure this heartsickness, not until Archie  _comes back to him._

 

* * *

 

**twenty-nine: melody**

Their voices are as different as everything else about their lives—Archie’s is soaring and pure while Cook’s is gritty and raw—so the first time they harmonised  _perfectly_ , everyone is surprised; it’s as if their voices were  _made_ for each other _._

 

* * *

 

**thirty: star**

“You are my north star,” Archie whispers fragilely, the first time they make love after he returns: “You always guide me  _home_.”

 

* * *

 

  **thirty-one: home**

Archie steps onto the Sandy stage (eyes bright, smile warm, gaze soft, voice tender); drowning out the cheers of the crowd, Cook’s heart sings a joyful litany:  _he’s home he’s home he’s home he’s home!_

 

* * *

 

**thirty-two: confusion**

Cook begins dating another blonde bombshell, and perhaps this is the way things are supposed to be—Cook deserves someone he can actually have a  _family_ with, after all—so  _why,_ Archie thinks as he looks away in agony, does it feel like his heart is being torn apart every time Cook  _kisses_ her?

 

* * *

 

**thirty-three: fear**

Cook looks at how much Archie has changed and grown—he’s happier, more content, more sure of himself and what he wants—and feels his heart seize:  _maybe he doesn’t need me anymore._

 

* * *

 

**thirty-four: lightning/thunder**

Lightning struck his vision the first time he saw Archie smile at him, followed by the thunderous beating of his heart;  _am I crazy or falling in love,_  Cook thinks in despair,  _is it real or just another crush?_

 

* * *

 

**thirty-five: bonds**  

_No promises,_ was their hushed vow before they parted,  _we can’t hold each other back;_  and yet every song they sing is a promise, nevertheless: to wait, to come back, to hold on, to never, ever let go.

 

* * *

 

**thirty-six: market**

He may be taping a soap opera in Manila, but his mind and his heart are left somewhere in America; every time he walks through the flea market and something catches his eye, the first thing Archie thinks of is:  _I wonder if Cook will like this?_

 

* * *

 

**thirty-seven: technology**

They share a meal over the screen: breakfast, for Archie; dinner, for Cook; they intend to always be together, even when they’re time zones apart.

 

* * *

 

**thirty-eight: gift**

Cook touches him, lingering, and this time, Archie doesn’t pull away; he leans into the touch, trusting, yielding, and Cook feels his heart swell with the gift.

 

* * *

 

**thirty-nine: smile**

Cook learns, later on, that the smile is just a mask; it’s when Archie drops it when they’re alone, tucking his face into the crook of Cook’s neck just to quietly  _breathe:_ it’s when he finally understands how much this boy  _trusts_ him.

 

* * *

 

**forty: innocence**

No matter how mature he acts for his age, at heart he is still a frightened young child caught up in the whirlwind of  _Idol_ , desperately needing security and comfort; it’s a mantra Cook repeats in his head, over and over, when Archie curls up next to him on the tour bus, even as the way Cook longs to truly hold him is not entirely innocent.

 

* * *

 

**forty-one: completion**

It’s just the two of them inside the 7,000-seater auditorium, but Cook knows Archie will understand the significance as he takes the small jewellery box out of his pocket; he kneels before Archie on the stage of the Nokia Theatre, where they once shared a past, for here they are now, facing the future again:  _together._

 

* * *

 

**forty-two: clouds**

It’s hard to look at him this way—heavily clouded with fresh grief—and so Archie continues to smile for him, to smile even as it hurts; he raises his arms high above his head, urging Manila to sing along:  _please_ , he prays as he lets his voice soar over the crowd 40,000 strong;  _please don’t let the darkness overtake him._

 

* * *

 

**forty-three: sky**

_It’s midnight where you are_ , is Archie’s first thought when he wakes at five in the morning, hoping to catch the sunrise in Santiago;  _sleep well, Cook,_ he murmurs, his heart aching with longing; he turns his gaze heavenward and takes comfort:  _we’re still under the same sky._

 

* * *

 

**forty-four: heaven**

It’s been a long day, and Cook doesn’t bother changing out of his clothes as he slips into bed and gathers his husband into his arms; Archie smiles sleepily at him and kisses him softly: “Welcome home.”

 

* * *

 

**forty-five: hell**

“I just want to let you know, before I say goodbye…” Archie’s eyes are glistening as he embraces Cook one final time: “I love you,” he whispers, so that Cook’s fiancée won’t hear: “I have  _always_ loved you.”

 

* * *

 

**forty-six: sun**

He is drawn to Archie the way the earth revolves around the sun; he is warmth and light and life, and Cook discovers that he may have survived twenty-four years before all this, but it’s only after meeting Archie that he has truly began to  _live._

 

* * *

 

**forty-seven: moon**

Sometimes it all becomes too much, there’s just too many pressures all around: from the industry, from the Church, from his own family; yet amidst the shadows closing in on him, it’s in Cook’s arms that he finds solace: his beacon of light, his moon in the night.

 

* * *

 

**forty-eight: waves**

The first wave, when the  _Idol_ tour ends and suddenly they don’t get to spend every waking moment together anymore; the second wave, when their music begins taking them in opposite directions and opposite parts of the world; the third wave, when Archie leaves for his mission and Cook suffers the silence for two suffocating years; the fourth wave threatens to drown him completely, and Cook falls to his knees, holding on to Archie for dear life as they both tremble in utter  _relief_ : “It’s benign, Cook,” Archie tells him, still clutching his biopsy result, and Cook gulps in deep lungfuls of air, finally able to breathe; “ _It’s benign.”_

 

* * *

 

**forty-nine: hair**

The sensation brings him unexpected pleasure: the sting of his scalp when Cook pulls at his hair, needing something to hold onto when Archie sucks and milks him dry.

 

* * *

 

**fifty: supernova**

All around them is an explosion—the audience cheering, the band playing, confetti falling, stage hands gesturing, cameras panning,  _Idols_ running, judges applauding, Ryan Seacrest screaming—but all Archie hears is: “ _I love you,”_ and Archie feels his heart  _burst_.

 

* * *

 


End file.
